Titanium
by PirateJenna
Summary: Eliza has been studying Phantom for quite sometime, but when late one night he asks her to sing for, she's caught off guard. Maybe Phantom isn't what she thought. This is a scene from a story I would like to write. Oneshot


**So, I'm working on putting together this really cool idea I have for a Danny Phantom story. I wrote this specific scene I had an idea for. It's not a song fic, but songs/music play a fairly big role in my story. I wanted to post this scene to see if any likes the sort of story it would be. Here's the setup, Danny's been captured by the GIW and held by them for experiments for several years. Eliza is a scientist/psychologist who is studying Danny. Please tell me what you think about it, and if you would be interested in reading a the full story.**

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Eliza sat in a chair in the outer room of Phantom's cell. She had a lot of paperwork to fill out. GIW wanted to know all about what she was doing. She understood, but she really hated some of the questions. She really hated the ones that asked her to consider performing some new tests they had devised. The tests were harsh, invasive, in regards to Phantom's mind and emotions, and sometimes cruel. The GIW looked at Phantom like a specimen that just so happened to be alive, like a plant. You give it some water, a little light, and make sure no one steps on it or crushes it, but only so that it remains alive. No, not alive. Just not dead. She didn't look at him like that. They would call him her "pet" to taunt her.

She looked up into the room. Phantom was staring up at the ceiling. He seemed, different. She had been here for four years. She had seen a change in him, probably around the two year mark. He had just looked at her the same way he had at everyone else there. But there had been a change, a slight one, but it had grown. The look in his eyes, it scared her. It was a look of hatred. But a specific kind of hatred. She figured she knew why he hated her. The GIW may have thought they were experts on ghosts, but they really didn't understand them. They thought ghosts weren't sentient. She didn't though. She had a much better understanding of them. She believed they could be sentient. That's why he hated her. She understood him. She knew that he hated this. That all of this was wrong, but she still didn't treat him that different from the rest of them.

She sighed. It was late. No one else was there. She just wanted to get this finished. She wished there was music. Music helped her focus. She had grown up with her brother playing piano almost twenty-four/seven. Maybe she could sing. She felt a bit awkward just singing, even if there was no one around to hear. So she just hummed. It was a song she had heard in a movie years and years ago. She didn't remember the movie much, but the song had stuck with her. She hummed the soft, haunting melody. She reached the end of the song and stopped humming.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted her thoughts. "Don't stop."

Her head snapped up. Phantom was looking at her. She jerked back. _He- he can't see me in here. There's- there's no window. He can't hear me either. Or, at least, he shouldn't be able to. _At first, she thought he was just staring at the wall where he thought she might be. But he wasn't; he was looking into her eyes, only there was no hatred. There seemed to be a mixture of hope and desperation. He spoke again, softly, "Please."

She gulped. How could he have heard her? But the change in his countenance intrigued her. So, taking a breath, she started to sing, "If only, if only the woodpecker sighed, the bark of the tree were as soft as the sky. While the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely, he cries to the moon, if only, if only."

Phantom leaned his head back, a sad smile creeping across his face. She watched him silently for a bit. The look on his face... She held back a gasp. He looked, different all of a sudden. He hadn't change, she realized, but she was seeing him differently. He looked, human. Maybe he always had. She looked him over, trying to guess what age he seemed to be. Probably about twenty-one or twenty-two. She herself was only about twenty-four.

Without really knowing why, she spoke, "Would- would you like me to sing something else?"

She waited anxiously. She almost regretted asking, when he said, without looking up, "If you'd like to."

She swallowed, racking her brain for something to sing. She remembered a beautiful song that her brother used to play on the piano. Hoping Phantom would like it, she took a deep breath and started to sing, "You shout it out, but I can't hear a word you say. I'm talking loud, not saying much. I'm criticized, but all your bullets ricochet. Shoot me down, but I get up. I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose. Fire away, fire away. Ricochet, you take your aim. Fire away, fire away." She continued to sing. Phantom seemed to enjoy it. She closed her eyes; she felt like she was back home, singing the song as her brother played the song on the piano. As she reached the bridge, she felt her emotions well up inside her. She had completely disappeared into her memories. "Stone-hard, machine gun, firing at the ones who run. Stone-hard, as bulletproof glass. You shoot me down, but I won't fall. I am titanium. You shoot me down, but I won't fall. I am titanium." She let out a soft sigh as she finished. She was brought back from her memories. A small tear slipped out of her eye, but she quickly wiped it away, worried Phantom might see. Something about the song had always seemed so sad to her. Like the person singing was tired of being bulletproof, tired of fired at and knocked down only to get up again and have the cycle repeated. _It suits Phantom._ She started a bit at the thought. Why did it suit Phantom? And yet, she knew why.

She looked over at Phantom. His head was still back, his eyes were still closed, but the smile on his face had changed. He didn't really seem any less sad than he had been, but he seemed as if he was relieved. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. No, that wasn't quite it. More like some one had acknowledged the weight on his shoulders, instead of pretending it wasn't there and leaving him to suffer in silence.

She paused afterward, not sure what to do. She glanced down at her watch. It was really late. She decided to take the paperwork home with her. She would do it later. She scooped up the paper and started to leave.

"Thank you."  
She spun around. Phantom's head was still back, his eyes closed, and the smile on his face. She thought for a minute she might have imagined it, but she knew she hadn't. She turned back to the door, a smile on her face. Maybe there was more to Phantom than she had thought at first.


End file.
